


Trinkets, Tea, and Tears

by Feral_Female



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Coming Out, Gay Sex, M/M, Romance, odd creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feral_Female/pseuds/Feral_Female
Summary: Now that another alien epidemic has been stopped in its tracks by Torchwood, it’s time for the staff to take a breather and attend to personal matters. For our beloved factotum that means gathering his nerve and telling his mother the truth about his sexuality and his current romance.This story isn’t about monsters or pandemics, it’s one man’s coming out tale so if you’re looking for the squick and ick, hang around. That’ll probably be back full force in the next story.My posting schedule will remain the same from here on out. I wish I could post more but real life just doesn’t allow it. So sorry all. I’ll do my best to make sure I post regularly.This tale – as all of mine do - takes place mainly before CoE although you might pick up some nods to things that occurred in the first three episodes of “Children of Earth”. There may also be a few small liberties taken from time to time with references to the show and its timelines.





	1. The Truth About Hodkins Dartwood

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter One**

**Ianto Solo**

**The Truth About Hodkins Dartwood**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

I had one small drawer in the nightstand that held my assorted bit and bobs. Old watches, worn-out wallets, ticket stubs from the cinema – there were far too many of them in there – and other eclectic things that no man really needed to hang onto. Oh, and there were condoms and several tubes of lube in there as well. The condoms were growing rather dusty since Jack and I never used them. The lube on the other hand…

Sitting on the edge of the bed I fished around in the drawer, emptying it out in preparation for filling it back up with the flibbertigibbets my mother would send home with me. I had exactly one hour to kill before my sister arrived. I’d twisted her arm to make her go. Not literally, of course, but emotionally. Rhiannon and mum had a strained relationship at times. Mum tended to be stiff and rather unbending in her ways. Rhiannon was, at times, brash and always outspoken. They clashed quite often.

My stomach began to knot up thinking of sitting down in Mum’s small parlor and telling her that I was taking it up the arse from my boss as my brother-in-law was so fond of saying. Mum was rather religious and I feared a negative reaction. But, it was something that needed done. Hiding who I was from those I loved was detrimental to my mental health as well as to my relationship with Jack. It was odd in a way that now that I’d been bashed the terror of telling her had lessened. I was still greatly concerned, but when someone tries to kill you because you love a member of the same sex, telling Mum you like to kiss boys as well as girls rather pales.

I bent over to paw about in the drawer, my fingers moving over the only thing remaining, the ropes that Jack used to for bed play. I pulled them out, the soft cotton slid over itself like a satin snake. Four long lengths, all coming uncoiled and puddling on my thighs.

My body reacted instantly as I languidly pulled one of the lengths over my left wrist. Closing my eyes, I could see Jack over me, caging me in, naked flesh sweet and tacky against naked flesh, his blue eyes simmering with lust, as he gently looped one rope then the other over the headboard, pulling my arms up over my head, his prick hard and hot as it slid up and back over my hip bone. My breathing hitched a bit at the flash of memory. The clock in the living room chimed, shaking me from the erotic recollection. Maybe if I asked tonight he’d be willing to release me as only he could. God knows after this little tea time treat I’d be in desperate need of a good fucking.

I tossed the ropes, lube, a couple old stopwatches that had died, and the remote for the stereo back into the drawer and shut it. Then I reached down to rearrange my stiff dick. Damn that man and his effect on me. I showered and shaved, dressed in a pair of new jeans and a thick sweater of burnt sienna. Tea called, so I got the kettle on and fixed myself a cup. No sooner had it been poured then someone rapped on the door.

“Come in,” I called, assuming it was my sister. She peeked around the door at me lounging by the range waiting for the kettle to come to a boil.

“Don’t know why you don’t buy an electric kettle like the rest of the people on this island,” she commented as she removed her coat and draped it over a kitchen chair. “Jack about?”

“No, he’s at work tonight.”

“Pity that. I was hoping to see him. Been awhile.” I heard her pull out a chair so I opened the cupboard and got another mug out.

“Sorry about not coming around. It’s been a bit—”

“Busy, I know,” she sighed. I fixed us both a good cup then carried the mugs to the table, placing hers in front of her. Her dark hair was loose and damp from the rain. She had pulled on a sweater and jeans as well. “Looks good, thanks.” She took a sip then sighed in pleasure. “This is nice. I don’t get to just sit and enjoy a cup of tea anymore. If it’s not the kids its bloody John calling for me.” I smiled at her. She smiled back. “We should make time for this, Ianto. You and me time.”

“I’d like that.”

She lowered her cup and studied me. “You look like you’re about to take a fist up the arse. Oh! Sorry, was that insensitive? Damn my mouth. I’m always telling John not to make stupid comments about people and their arse in front of you and Jack and then I go and say something like that.”

“It’s fine, really. Honestly.”

“Right, well, sorry. You look like someone kicked you in the bollocks. How’s that?”

I chuckled into my tea. “I rather feel that way. I don’t expect a happy reaction from Mum.”

“That’s why I’m there. She starts flapping on about what the vicar says about gays and I’m right there in her face.”

My, but she looked so fierce and protective. It was nice. “Haven’t heard you talk like that since that time Hodkins Dartwood was bullying me.”

“Bloody Hodkins Dartwood. What a nump! Did you know he got arrested?”

I shook my head. Rhiannon was now in her glory. She knew everyone in her estate and the ones that bordered hers. She also kept track of our old neighbors. Actually, she was a bit of a busybody but that was part of her charm.

“Yep,” she said with a nod. “Beat up his wife then took off with the neighbor’s dog.”

“With the dog?”

“I know, why steal the damn dog? Makes no sense but he did. Maybe he planned to use it as a hostage. They made it to Madeline Fink’s house and the dog bit him right on the face. Wrecked his car, buggered up his legs and back. Dog leaped out and went home and Hodkins went to jail.”

Hearing her spin yarns was always enjoyable. She had a way with words, common yes, but filled with humor and perfectly timed for maximum effect. The heart of a storyteller. Much like Mark Twain I always thought.

“Serves him right I’d say.”

“I should have popped him in the face when he’d been pestering you, taking your candy money and such,” she mumbled then glanced at her wrist watch. “It’s time. You ready?”

“Let me finish this.” I threw the dregs of my tea back, swallowed, and gave her a firm nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t you worry, Ianto, I’ll be right there with you.” She reached across the table to pat my hand. Her reassurance was greatly appreciated. Maybe I could wear it like a breast plate to shield me from the battle about to be waged.

 

**To be continued…**


	2. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Two - It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Two**

**Ianto Solo**

**It Was a Dark and Stormy Night…**

Mum lived in a rather nice little house not far from Rhiannon's. She’d sold our childhood home after my father died, and with a bit help from me, we got her a small bungalow close to the library and church, where she spent time working and volunteering. After her cancer scare it seemed prudent to have her near, although my visits hadn’t exactly increased in frequency as they should have.

“You ready for this?” Rhiannon asked as we sat parked in the small drive, rain beating on the windscreen, staring at my mother’s house. I was staring at it as if it were the gallows.

“Not in the least.” I threw the door open and ran to the safety of the small front porch. I rang the bell while my sister struggled with an umbrella, finally joining me. I rang again.

“She does this on purpose you know. Just to remind us of who’s really in charge.”

Sheets of water ran off the edges of the porch. “Looks like her gutters need cleaned. I should get over here and do that.”

Guilt always bubbled up in my chest when I was here. I knew I should be attending to her. Hell, I dropped in on Enid more than I did my own mother. Of course, Enid didn’t make me feel like a sinner because I loved a man. Not that I was sure Mum would but I had strong suspicions. 

“Oh bloody hell!” Rhiannon began pounding on the door. It flew open a few seconds later, showering us with light. “Left us out in the rain long enough,” my sister snapped.

“I’m not as quick as I used to be,” Mum said then stepped to the side to allow us to enter. “Besides, there’s a roof. Don’t leave the foyer until you’ve removed your slickers and Wellingtons.”

“Mum, I’ve not worn Wellingtons in ages.” My sister threw me a scandalous wink as she wiggled out of her damp coat. Mum took our coats and hung them on hangers over the heater vent. Rhiannon’s umbrella was left on the front porch.

“There’s tea and biscuits in the parlor.” She took off, expecting her children to follow like little ducklings. Which we did. Rhiannon first because the deeper I got into Mum’s house, the thicker my unease became. When we were all seated, Mum poured tea for her guests. Which, thinking on it, was exactly how I felt. Like a guest. Mum certainly looked dressed for entertaining. She’d pulled on a nice blouse, pressed slacks, and a rose-tone sweater. Even gone as far as tiny pearl earrings and a matching bracelet. “Tell me about the children. Are they doing well?”

I nibbled on a vanilla wafer and sipped some dismal tea as Rhiannon filled Mum in on her two children. Her replies were succinct. My attention roamed over the parlor to the back door. Mum had a small parcel of land, no bigger than a sneeze really, but she doted on it. Grew some lovely roses when the season was right. Complained about her new neighbors from America allowing their hedges to grow over the line and shield her flowers. Typical middle-aged woman who spent far too much time alone.

“Ianto?” Rhiannon nudged me soundly. I snapped back to the conversation. “Mum asked how work was.”

“Oh, sorry. Just admiring the garden,” I replied and brushed some crumbs from my lap.

“It’s dark outside,” Mum pointed out.

“Yes, well, work. It’s fine. Boring. Bordering on tedious.”

“Well, one would expect that from a civil servant’s job,” Mum commented as she looked from me to my sister.

“Ianto has a nice boss. Why don’t you tell her about your boss, Jack, Ianto?” My sister gave me a look over her tea cup. It screamed ‘Tell her now so we can leave already!’ I’d not had enough tea to talk about Jack and I. To be honest, I doubted there was enough tea in all of Wales to fortify me enough to talk about that topic.

Mum’s soft blue eyes landed on me.

“Oh. Well, Jack is very…dapper.”

I heard Rhiannon grunt. “And handsome. You should see the man, Mum, he looks like a movie star! Big blue eyes, broad shoulders, and that smile!”

“Stop gushing,” I mumbled under my breath. My sister hit me with a decidedly sour look. “Jack is quite nice. And a good boss. Kind. Considerate.” At times a raving lunatic but a magnificent lover who understands me as no one ever has. “Wears lovely coats.”

“Did we really come all the way over there to talk about his coats, Ianto?” Rhiannon prodded.

“Stop bossing your brother about. No wonder your children are so pushy.”

Oh nice. That was a lovely salvo from Mum. It hit dead on target if the flush of anger on my sister’s face was any indication.

“Exactly what do you mean with that?” Rhiannon fired back. I looked at the slider, wishing I could sneak outside and not have to hear the fight that was brewing.

“There’s no need to get your back up, Rhiannon. I simply meant that your children – or what I recall of them – are pushy and ill-mannered at times.”

“I think I see a cat,” I mumbled as Rhiannon inhaled in dismay. “Yes, that’s a cat.” I stood up and hurried to the sliding glass door, eagerly yanking it open just as my sister began lobbing verbal grenades at my mother. Out into the rain I went, closing the door behind me, and sliding to the left a bit to get under the awning.

There was no cat out here. What sensible cat would be out in the rain? Seems only Ianto Jones is dumb enough to choose the deluge over the inside of the nice warm -- were those eyes reflecting the glow of the lights inside the battle zone? I squinted a bit, trying to catch the reflection of those two eyes again. Yes! There _was_ something rustling round Mum’s flower bed. It looked to be smallish, bigger than a cat judging by where the eyes flashed from time to time. But not as big as a large dog. A fox probably. Well, didn’t I feel better knowing that I hadn’t lied. There _was_ an animal out here in the rain. I’d have to tell Mum to call the RSPCA in the morning to set a trap. She’d not want a fox about, even if they did catch mice and moles and…

The animal skittered out from under the rhododendron. It was _not_ a fox. It wasn’t even an animal or was it? No. Yes. What the bloody hell? The creature appeared to be a rat but walked upright like a human. Perhaps it reached my knee, maybe mid-thigh in height. Water ran off its coarse brown fur.

“No see me!” it screamed then rushed back into the darkness.

The slider flew open, startling me so badly I may have yelped. “We’re going home. Get your coat!”

“But the…there’s a…cat.” I pointed at the shrubbery. My sister was not inclined to care about a cat by the look of her.

“ _Fuck_ the bloody cat.”

And with that our visit with Mum ended.

 

**To be continued…**


	3. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Three - Research and Release

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Three**

**Ianto Solo**

**Research and Release**

 

After the debacle with Mum debacle ended, Rhiannon dropped me off at my flat. I’d not said much on the ride home because I’d not been able to. Wiggling a word into my sister’s ranting was impossible. And possibly agreeing with my mother on how badly Rhiannon’s kids behaved at times seemed foolhardy. I was just closing the gap between my older sibling and myself. Mentioning that her children did run to the wild side would only infuriate her more.

So, I nodded and grunted at the appropriate times, then slid out of her car and waved goodbye. As soon as she sped around the corner, I headed to the Hub. The rain had stopped. I stepped around and over the puddles on the pavement, mind feverishly working to pull more out of the tiny voice of my memory.

There was something about the creature in my mother’s yard that was familiar. I’d seen an image at one time. A small rat, walking upright. But where? Racking my brain – which generally has no trouble recalling such things – as I hustled along, I was upon the secret entrance for the Hub before I realized it. Using a key, I unlocked the door to the Visitor’s Center, slipped inside, and relocked the door behind me.

Then I went down into the depths. The base was dark and quiet. I almost forgot that Owen was here until I saw the light on in the medical bay. Our medic was recovering from his near-death battle with the white pestilence that had swept through the Weevil population. His health was much improved, and the crusty white patches were now almost gone. He could have gone home but flatly refused until his hair grew back. And, in all honesty, I didn’t truly blame him. Not having a follicle of hair on any part of my body would send me underground until it all grew back too.

I peeked in on him. His dark eyes lifted from the movie he was watching on his phone.

“What are you doing back?” he asked, pausing the film, and sitting up on the cot he’d claimed as his. Trying to make chit-chat with a bald man who possessed no eyebrows or eyelashes and not staring was hard. “Ianto, just get it over with.”

I pulled my gaze from the floor, stared at his brow, and mumbled an apology.

“I’m sorry. I can’t stop staring.” God, how rude was I? Terribly.

“Pfft, whatever. I’m getting used to it. Not the hairless state mind. I rather miss having hair on my balls. Everyone that comes in here stares. Just get it out of your system and we can move on.”

“Right yes, sorry.” I padded over and sat down on the cot beside his. “I needed to do some research on an animal I saw in my mother’s yard.”

“Ah, well, don’t touch any of the main computers. Tosh is running some sort of scan that will take forty years and two days, or some such thing. Jump on a laptop that’s not hooked into the mainframe.”

He settled back into the mound of white pillows and turned his movie back on. Guess that was my cue to leave.

“See you later then.”

“Whatever,” he replied and waved me off.

Always such a pleasant bloke our Owen. I made my way into Jack’s office, sat down behind his desk, and flipped open his new laptop. He’d not yet hooked this into the alien tech that ran our computer systems, so I could dig around a bit online. I started my search with rodents that walk and talk which, of course, brought me no results because it was an asinine thing to research.

Sitting back in Jack’s chair, I pondered and stewed, typing in search queries and then erasing them. Ten minutes or so passed with me getting nowhere when the man whose office I was using filled the doorway. He was covered head to toe in some sort of green slimy stuff.

“What happened there?” I asked, waving a hand at him.

“Ah, well, this is some sort of alien pollywog body fluid.” He reached up to run his hand over his hair then made a sour face when his palm stuck to his head. “Semen maybe?”

I had to process that for a second. “How big was the pollywog?”

“About the size of a Mack truck. It was trolling around in Llangorse Lake trying to eat the locals.”

Again, a moment to process was needed. “You were all the way over at Llangorse Lake, trying to capture a pollywog the size of a lorry. And this pollywog was trying to eat swimmers. Have I got that correct?”

“Yep.” He peeled his coat off and dropped it to the floor. Then he started taking off his sticky clothing, shirt and undershirt first. “Damn thing was massive. Slippery too. Could have used your help with the underwater rodeo part of the show.”

I rose from my chair, and walked over to him, stopping just in front of him and holding out my arms for his dirty clothing.

“You could have called.” I picked his saturated coat up off the floor. “Also, are pollywogs old enough to ejaculate? And do – no! Do not even think of kissing me until you shower.”

He stalled then sighed, padding around me toward the medical bay, stripping as he walked.

“Why don’t you join me in the shower? There’s alien spunk in places that I don’t think I’ve ever had alien spunk before.”

“I didn’t think such a place existed on your body.”

He paused to throw me that shady look he throws so well. “Someone’s feeling saucy tonight. I like it. So, care to join me?” I caught his trousers and added them to the pile of sticky clothing in my arms.

“Yes well, do bear in mind that Owen is here.”

“Damn. I forgot.” He sauntered into the medical bay nude, on his way to the showers we used for just such occurrences.

“Fuck sake!” Owen shouted when his sight touched on Jack. “Cover up a bit, yeah? Fucking things one sees working here.”

“Oh, you like it and you know it,” Jack commented over his shoulder then disappeared into the shower/decontamination stalls. Owen rolled to his side, his ass facing the glass showers units. I dropped the dirty clothes on a cot, folded my arms, and took pleasure in seeing Jack wet and nude. If not for Owen muttering about cocks all over the place I would have joined my boyfriend. Washing his firm body then rubbing lather over his hard prick and heavy balls…

“Can you go drool somewhere else? The sounds coming out of you rival the porn I’m trying to watch,” Owen barked.

Heat raced to my face. I mumbled something, grabbed Jack’s dirty clothes, and hustled out of the medical bay back to his office. There, in the safe, were bags of clothes, all clean and folded, for Jack to slide into. I’d suggested we all do this after the last trip into the sewers. Everyone had liked the idea, so now we all had several changes of clothing awaiting us if/when we needed them.

Returning to the sick bay, I found Jack toweling off and talking to Owen. He’d wrapped a towel around his waist – sadly – and was scrubbing at his head with yet another. He pulled on his clean pants, said goodnight to Owen, and then led me back to his office.

“Now, about that kiss.” He backed me into the wall of his office, pressed his chest to mine, and cradled my face in his hands, his head tipping to the left as he captured my mouth. Even just kissing him eased the tension of the night lodged in my muscles. He knew how to entice me, lapping at my tongue possessively, using strong swipes to pull me deeper into the erotic moment.

“That’s much better,” Jack sighed over my damp lips. “How did your mother take the news about us?” His long fingers still held my face. My eyes slowly opened. Oh, but his eyes were majestic. Hot and blue and tempting me to go further with this intimacy. Then his words sunk in.

“She doesn’t know yet.”

His expressive brows knotted up and his hands slid from my cheeks.

“Ianto…”

“No, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell her. She and Rhiannon had a few words and my sister got irked.”

“Which translated from Welsh means fucking pissed off.” He stayed close, his chest resting against mine. I wanted his hands back on my face and his mouth moving over mine. I simply never got enough of the man.

“Right as rain. They had a hell of a row. I slipped outside during the worst of it which reminds me…ever met a walking rat that spoke?”

Jack snickered, stole another kiss, and then left me against the wall so he could finish dressing.

“Met them, hell I’ve dated them,” he tossed out as he wiggled his arms into a long-sleeved blue shirt. Must be he was skipping the undershirt. That was fine. Less for me to take off him when we got home because I was damn sure making having sex a priority.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he replied as he buttoned his shirt. “Why do you ask?”

“There was this animal in my mother’s yard. It was a rat, or it looked like a rat, but it walked upright and spoke.”

Jack studied me closely for a moment. “What did it say?

“’No see me’ or something along those lines.” I folded my arms and leaned back into the wall, easing my shoulder blades into the damp, cold stone.

“I don’t recall ever seeing such a creature before. Did you check the databanks?” He sat down in his office chair to put on his socks.

“I would have but Tosh is running some sort of scan and it’s offline for forty days.” His head jerked up. “Or so Owen said.”

“Owen tends to exaggerate to make a point.” I picked up his boots, slimy as they were, and carried them over to him. He wrinkled his nose. I shoved my hands into his knotted hair, carding my fingers through the thick brown strands to comb it out. “Well, as soon as we get back online we can delve into the data banks. Do you think it’s dangerous?”

“No, I didn’t get that impression. It seemed skittish.” I dug deep into his hair, raking my nails lightly over his scalp. He moaned softly.” I thought perhaps I’d go out there tomorrow, alone, and set up a box trap. Maybe clean Mum’s downspouts and talk to her about us.”

He looked up at me, eyes smoky warm with growing passion. “Sounds like a plan.” He stood up. I handed him a clean coat fresh from his bag of spare clothing. Shaking I out I held it up for him. Jack turned, shrugged into his clean coat, and then reached back to take my wrist. “Time to go to bed.”

Bed sounded good and I wasn’t even tired.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	4. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Four - Here Then Gone

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Four**

**Ianto Solo**

**Here Then Gone**

I’d not slept well after getting Jack home and in bed. Sex generally untangled me, leaving me spent and sated, and it had. For a few hours. I awoke at three in the morning, feeling anxious and unsettled. I used the loo, checked the locks on the windows, and then returned to bed. Jack was lying on his stomach, breathing deeply, his dark hair all ruffled. I lay down next to him, his body heat keeping the covers toasty warm. Even with him at my side, I tossed and turned.

Around five I sighed deeply, the moon hidden behind thick clouds.

“Ianto, what is the problem?” Jack’s sleepy voice startled me.

“I can’t stop rolling over possibilities for the outcome of today.”

“Mm, I thought so.” He threw the covers off and sat up. “On your belly.”

“Really? We just did that six hours ago.”

“Just roll over.”

I did as he asked. He threw a thick leg over mine and sat on my thighs, his cock soft and warm on my ass. I was about to remind him to get some lube when his hands fell to my shoulders. He dug his fingers into the tight muscles and began kneading them.

“Ah…oh God that’s incredible,” I groaned as he worked on my shoulders then began massaging my neck. My eyes drifted shut. It wasn’t a gentle rub down. He dug in roughly, commanding the muscles to bow to his wishes. It was magnificent. I could feel my body softening and melting into the knotted bedding.

“What do you think is the worst-case scenario?” he asked, his hands moving down my back, his thumbs tight to my spine, stretching and rolling the flesh and meat under it.

“She hates me, calls me bad names, and throws me from her house after calling the vicar to curse my soul to hell and condemning me to wander about in the afterlife seeking glory but never finding it because I had carnal relations with a man.”

“Wow, that was detailed and long-winded. And what would be the best-case scenario?” He travelled lower with his touch until he was at my lower back. “You really _are_ tense.” He leaned into his work now, going into deep muscle, working at the rigid knots along my lower lumbar. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to reply I felt so good.

“She loves me even though I’m bisexual and shagging my boss. Then bakes a pan of currant cookies.”

“Why don’t you hope for something in the middle?” With that he slapped my ass cheek and slid from our bed, leaving me lying there, feeling rather gelatinous. “I need coffee.”

“I’ll make it as soon as I grow bones.” I heard him chuckle right before the shower thundered to life. “I’ll start with a back bone,” I mumbled into the sheets.

 

*****

 

I went to Mum’s during my lunchbreak only to discover she wasn’t home. Standing in her foyer – I had a key – with a box trap in my hand, I decided to set the trap and then attend to the downspouts. Perhaps she’d come home while I was here, and we could talk. Probably I could call her, but I opted to clean the downspouts first as a way of perhaps softening the blow, no pun intended.

Setting the trap was simple. I’d brought some left-over tuna something that Gwen had left in the fridge at work. It was a bit green in places but the creature – and damn my stupid head for still not being able to recall where I’d seen this beastie – might not care about a spot of mold. I wedged the trap between the rhododendron and the fence, right by a small hole that linked the yards. Looked like whatever it was had dug under.

Brushing off my hands and knees, I then tipped my head back to study the downspout situation. Sighing, I went to fetch a ladder and get to it. Thankfully, I’d changed into casual clothes before leaving the Hub. By the time I had the front and sides done, I was speckled with putrid leaf gunk. I’d also had to handle a dead bird – and by dead, I mean rotted – as well as a wasp nest under the one of the eaves. The nest was empty thankfully.

Back on the ground I checked my pocket watch. An hour and forty minutes had passed. I quite fancied a cup of tea as my hands were chilled inside my latex gloves. Oh, how Jack had snickered at me for shoving gloves into my pocket before I left. He could titter all he wanted, but I was damn glad to have them on when I lifted that decaying bird out of the downspout.

I slipped around the back, easing the gate open, and there it was, rattling around inside the trap. In the light of day, it was obviously a rodent of some sort. It’s big watery gaze flew to me. It had tuna smeared on its pointy snout. Its fur was thick, dull brown, unremarkable in every way. The tail was long and hairless.

“Free me,” it pleaded. My heart kicked up a bit. “Free me. Be good man.”

“What _are_ you?” I asked, creeping closer, my chilled hands forgotten. The rat tipped its head, whiskers twitching, pointed ears moving this way and that. I dropped down to my knees beside the trap. “You’re not the most attractive thing, are you?”

It also had a sour odor. Like unwashed dog only muskier.

It looked up at me, wide brown eyes filling with tears. Had I hurt its feelings? Oh Lord, I had. Tears welled up and ran down its face and whiskers. It sobbed and wailed, a most unpleasant sound that reminded me of a cat with its tail shut in a door.

“Oh, no, don’t cry.” I felt terrible. “I didn’t mean that. You’re really quite the handsome bloke.” If it was a male at all. The beast then began to dissolve. I leaped back from the trap, stunned, as the talking rat melted into a slick wet spot.

It was then that my mother touched my shoulder and startled me out of a year of life.

 

 

**To be continued…**


	5. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Five - The Talk

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Five**

**Ianto Solo**

**The Talk**

“Ianto, oh Lord!” She gasped at my shriek, grabbing at her throat.

“Mum.” I shook off the shock, swallowed my heart back down, and gave her a smile. Lopsided to be sure. “I was…uhm…checking the trap that I set.”

“You’ve scared me out of a good year’s growth.” Must be that’s where I got that saying. “Why are we trapping in my flower bed?”

“Oh, well, last night when I was out here I saw a fox.” I waved at the rhododendron. “Thought I’d just nip out and trap it before it became a problem.”

“That’s kind of you.” She smiled up at me and pulled her jumper a bit tighter around her throat. “What’s that puddle of gloppy looking stuff the trap’s sitting on?”

Oh. That. Well, that was a melted talking rat. Nothing out of the ordinary. “Just something I used to bait the trap with. Had him too but he escaped.”

“But the door is shut on the trap.”

Fuck. “Right. Well, you know how clever a fox is.” I gave her another smile, this one hopefully better than the last.

“That’s true. Oh look, that puddle is all wobbly like the wind is blowing over it.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t feel a breeze. Are you sure that’s natural? I’d not be surprised if those damn Americans dumped something over the fence to kill my plants.”

My gaze stayed on the puddle of melted rat, mind whirling, picking at random bits of things in the mad hope that it would uncover some speck of information about this damn—Oh. Well. That’s interesting. The puddle seemed to be moving as Mum had said. Swirling a bit. Beginning to take shape. Oh hell.

“Why don’t we go inside to look for something to rebait the trap with.”

I took my mother by her arms and rushed her into the house.

“Ianto, whatever is wrong with you?” She snapped, peeling off her jumper and laying it on the back of the sofa.

I blinked at her. “Do you have any sweets?”

“Sweets? Well, no, but I have some biscuits. Can you stay for tea?”

“Yes! Yes, I can stay for tea.” I glanced out the slider and saw something that might be a rat once it grew fur…and a face. It was _really_ ugly now. “Why don’t you go make some tea and I’ll take care of the ladder. Got the downspouts cleaned out for you.”

“You’re such a good lad.” She gave me a mother’s smile and a pat on the cheek, then toddled off to the kitchen. I barreled back outside in time to see the hairless rat wriggling back under the fence.

“Dammit.” Arms folded, I stared at the empty trap. How would I catch it now? Obviously, it was some alien life form. No rodent I had ever read about or heard of simply melted away in a bubbling pool of tears. Damp wind blowing over my neck something clicked inside my head. Like a puzzle piece snapping into place. A snippet of a song lyric. Old. Well, old if you consider classic rock old. Early Genesis. Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Mike Rutherford, that old.

I did a quick tap into the Torchwood database on my phone. Nothing. Damn. Okay, common search engines then. It was easy enough to find.

The sliding door opened. Mum stuck her head out. The sun broke through and the silver hairs in her brown hair really stood out.

“I thought you were tucking the ladder away.”

“Right. I am, just had a work text come in.”

“Well the tea is ready.”

She ducked back inside. I did a fast read and gave the neighbors yard a look. Could they have brought it with them when they moved? Mum rapped on the glass. Knowing that rap, I shoved my phone into my back pocket, gathered the ladder, and put it away.

We sat down to tea after I washed up, my mind now fully engaged in trying to figure out how a creature fabled to be in the wilds of Pennsylvania came to be here in Wales.

“Mum, where exactly are your new neighbors from?”

“America.” She waved at the couch.

“Yes, but _where_ in America?” She handed me a cup of tea and a currant cookie. It had been years since I’d had one of her homemade currant cookies.

“Along the east coast, I think. Why?”

“Just curious. The cookies are as good as I recall.”

She beamed. Well, this was quite nice. No angry words or dark looks. Just me and Mum having tea. With a monster from the states prowling around outside her home. Typical day in the life of Ianto Jones.

“So, tell me about your life away from work, Ianto. Any pretty girls catch your eye?”

My cookie suddenly felt rather dry on my tongue. I took a sip of mediocre tea to wash the crumbs down.

“No. No pretty girls.” I knew this was the opening I needed but I was having some trouble getting the words to leave my mouth. She looked sad. “There is someone though…”

“Oh? That’s good! I was worried about you. Mourning Lisa for so long. That’s not healthy. What’s her name? Is she pretty? When will you bring her round?”

I finished my tea and placed the cup onto the saucer. Mum smiled as I tenderly put the saucer back onto the large tray she’d carried the pot, cups, and biscuits out on. I rubbed my hands up and down my thighs, gaze lingering on my knees.

“Ianto?”

I glanced up. Her eyes – so much like mine – were searching my face.

“Mum, over the past few years I’ve discovered an aspect of myself.” She nodded silently. Oh hell, this was so much harder than telling Rhiannon. “I’m dating my boss.”

She stared at me in confusion. “But your sister said your boss is a man named Jack.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Nothing but the tick-tock of the clock on the mantle over a fireplace she never used because it was too sooty.

“I don’t understand.” Her voice was reedy. I’d never been this uncomfortable before. Ever.

“I’m dating a man. I date both, men and women.”

“You’re gay?” She was truly befuddled.

“No, not gay. Gay men are only attracted to other men. I find men _and_ women attractive.”

Her nose wrinkled as she worked this out, or tried to work it out. “So you have sex with… men?”

Oh God. “Only with one man. Only with Jack.” That damn clock ticked on and on. “Mum?”

She shook her head softly. “Of all the things I imagined hearing from you, that was never one of them. How can you do _that_ with a man? Did you not listen to the vicar when you were younger? Don’t you worry about your soul?”

“No, not really.” That was the truth. I might fret about my soul in my dreams but, in reality, I knew what lay on the other side of death. It wasn’t heaven or hell. The other side of death was a void filled with nothingness. She looked shocked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve not been to church in years. And now that I’m in a relationship with a man, I doubt I’ll ever go again.”

“Oh, Ianto…”

“Sorry to upset you. I can leave if you’d like.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best right now.”

I pushed to my feet, an ache the size of Wales deep in my chest. “I’ll come back to bait and set the trap. Please don’t touch the fox if it gets into it. It has mange.”

She nodded without looking at me.

I left, pulling the front door snugly shut behind me. The latching of the door was loud and hollow.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	6. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Six - Only Him

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Six**

**Ianto Solo**

**Only Him**

I went where I always go when troubled. In search of him.

The Hub was empty aside from Owen who grew more and more surly with each passing day of his self-imposed exile underground.

“They got a call about some winged thing flitting about,” he snapped then shunted me back out the door of the medical bay and slammed it in my face.

“That was quite helpful. Thank you,” I told the door.

I stalked to the archives area and found some solace alone with the shelves, totes, and underwater monsters. Sitting at my desk, the glow of the tanks tinting my skin a macabre green, I pushed papers around pretending to be listing all the bits and bobs that had fallen through the rift. In reality, no work was being done. I was too hurt and sad to focus. If I began tossing things into totes without paying attention, I’d never find them later. And that would never do. Part of what made me who I was pertained to knowing everything about Torchwood. Failing at that made me feel little and unneeded. Like the coffee boy that I’d started out as and not the field agent I now was.

God, I hoped Mum could see her way clear to not disown me. If she did, then she did, and I would of course go on loving Jack. No matter what I would do that. It would be lovely to have her blessing though, even though I had known going in that the odds of that happening were slight.

An hour later I left the Hub and walked home. The sky was darkening as night slipped over Cardiff. My flat was warm and carried the lingering scent of Jack Harkness. I followed that scent into the kitchen, thrilled to see Jack messing around at the stove. He smiled over his shoulder at me. He’d peeled off his coat and shirt, and was puttering about with a spatula and a frying pan in his white t-shirt and slacks. His braces were gone. That killer smile faded when he really looked at me.

Jack turned off the flame under the frying pan and lit the burner under the kettle. Seeing that blue flame eased me. I began moving around the small kitchen, gathering the makings for tea. Most people didn’t understand why I used a kettle on the stove instead of an electric one. I enjoyed the process. The flicker of the flame, the slow heat of the water, the sharp whistle of the kettle. Every step was important and controlled.

“Want to tell me about it?” Jack asked tentatively. Which is rare for Jack. He’s not one to be hesitant or faltering. Jack Harkness leaped into things with a movie star grin and a devil may care attitude. How I envied him that.

“Not much to tell.” I placed two mugs on the counter and spooned some sugar into the mugs.

“Things went badly with your mother.” Not a question but a softly worded statement.

I nodded and stood staring at the flame under the kettle. The floor creaked as he neared. My eyes dropped shut when his arms linked around me from behind.

“I’m sorry, Ianto,” Jack whispered by my ear.

“Not your fault.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

He brushed a kiss along my ear. “Can I do anything to help?”

I turned off the heat under the kettle and turned in his arms. As soon as my sight met his I was lost in the caring and warmth of his gaze.

“Love me,” I said.

“I do.”

I took his face in my hands and kissed him, heatedly, until he began to move into me, his body as fast to rise to the passion that linked us as mine always was. Tea left for later, I pulled him to the bedroom. Jack slid my clothing from me, knowing how to touch me, how to kiss me, how to stroke me.

He stripped slowly, his gaze only leaving mine when he tugged his t-shirt over his head.

“What do you want from me, Ianto?” He asked, standing beside the bed we shared, his cock jutting outward, his balls large and heavy. I couldn’t stop looking at his prick. What did I want from him tonight?

“I want you to love me,” I murmured, looking up from his cock to his beautiful face. “Love me as only you can.”

He nodded then slowly pulled open the drawer of pleasures. My body reacted as soon as one long, smooth length of rope was lifted from the drawer. A strong shudder ran over me. I may have groaned. I know I shimmied back over the bed, positioning myself on my back, arms over my head, mad for him to take the burden of my life from me for a little while.

“On your stomach.”

I hurried to do as he wished, his firm command loosening the bands of restraint I wrapped myself in.

He moved with smooth sensual grace, looping the ropes around my wrists, tying them to the headboard, and tugging my ass into the air. I was panting in wild anticipation.

His thighs brushed mine. I whimpered then bit down on my lower lip. “You know that you can give up control to me now, right?”

“Right. Yes…yes…yes.”

“Then let go.” His hands moved over my back, feathery touches along my ribs that led to my quivering buttocks. He toyed with my hole, pressing a finger to it, then rubbing along my perineum until he had my balls in his hand. I jerked on the ropes and they tightened. A low moan slipped out of me. I was at his mercy now. Jack was in control. Not me. Not me. Blessed angels above, someone else was in control. My legs nearly folded as my mind synchronized that information and I threw aside the restraint that I kept myself in. Jack was in command now and it was glorious.

“Jack,” I grunted as he rolled and weighed my balls.

“Who’s the boss?” He asked, his voice sprinkled with humor.

“You… always you.”

He rubbed the chilly lube bottle against my ass. My balls tightened up. I pulled in a quick breath when Jack squeezed a large dollop over my hole. It slid downward, coating my dangling sac. He ran his fingers through the slick, teasing me until I yelled out. Then he pressed two fingers in. I nearly came right then but I knew there would be more, and I so needed more.

“Who has the worry on their back now?” he asked as he hooked his fingers perfectly.

“Ah…you. Jack, I’m too close… for that.”

“Who’s in charge here?”

He stroked my prostate again. My spine arched, my cock kicked, and I came all over the covers. As I shuddered and shook, he eased his fingers out of me then pushed his cock in where those clever digits had just been. My orgasm doubled in intensity as he thrust deep, embedding himself, stretching me inch by inch.

“Ah hell, Ianto, that’s incredible.” He held me by the hips, his cock buried in my ass, as I clenched and pulled on him internally. His hips punched forward. The sounds of sex filled the room. Slippery sinful sounds. Skin slapping skin, the wet noise of fucking, rolling groans and harsh grunts, the headboard meeting the wall soundly.

I bit down on the duvet when he drove deep on his come stroke. There was no way he could go deeper yet Jack found a way. His cock throbbed. I closed my eyes, fingers wound around the ropes, and collapsed into the bedding, spent and tender and free.

“Shit,” Jack huffed as his cock slid out of me. It was fine. It was all fine. He rubbed his still leaking cock between my ass cheeks and then pressed them together. “Ianto that was… ah, damn that was…good. I can’t speak right yet.” He chuckled as his fingertips massaged my ass cheeks. Semen leaked out of me. My chest and stomach were covered with it from my release.

“Perfection,” I sighed as a calm settled over me. I could breath. The weight of the world was now on Jack, and he could carry it. Those broad shoulders could hold so much. He’d take care of the world for a bit.

He leaned over me, easing the ropes off one hand and then the other, his chest hot as a furnace on my sweaty back.

“Do you want some tea now?” He asked as he climbed from the bed. I rolled to my side, wrists warmly abraded, to watch him pad into the bathroom.

“Later.”

When he returned, his hair was damp and his cock shiny wet. He washed my chest and ass as he always did, stealing a kiss here and there, his voice soft as kitten fur as I slid into the nirvana of being unencumbered.

“We should change the bedspread,” he said, the warm cloth moving up over my left buttock.

“Later.”

“That is _not_ a typical Ianto Jones reply.”

“Wonderful, isn’t it?”

He shimmied around on the bed, doing who knows what with the washcloth. Sleep was sneaking up on me. Jack wriggled into my back, dropped an arm over my hip, and nibbled along my shoulder whispering silly fluffy things until I dropped off.

I’d not slept long when Jack was rousing me. “Ianto, it’s your mother.”

He held my mobile out to me. Groggy yet, I took the phone, working to clear the cobwebs from my mind as I placed the cell to my ear.

“Mum?”

“Ianto, the fox is back.”

Jack lay spread out beside me, inquisitive eyes sparkling. “We’ll be over shortly. Don’t touch it.”

“I won’t.” There was a protracted pause. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” It wasn’t much but perhaps her reaching out to me knowing what she did could be something…

“We?” he asked.

“We.”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	7. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Seven - Grandpa's Watches and Mother's Dreams

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Seven**

**Ianto Solo**

**Grandpa’s Watches and Mother’s Dreams**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

“Are you sure about the ‘We’ part of this?” I nodded as we made our way to my mother’s house. Jack fell into an unusual silence again. “You’re an amazingly strong man, Ianto.”

“Thank you.” I stared thought the windscreen, the slick roadway glowing with the colors of each traffic light we sailed through. “In truth, I don’t feel strong on any given day.”

“None of us do. Some people are just better at faking it than others.”

I looked his way. “Would that include you?”

“On occasion.” He glanced at me with a playful smile dancing across his face. “If you tell any of the others that I will be forced to implement Tier Two Boss Behavior.”

“Dare I ask?”

“It involves paddles and strategically tied ropes.” He waggled a brow. The ribbing helped lessen the stress that was already creeping back into me.

“I’ll make sure to tell the others first thing,” I replied as we pulled into my mother’s tiny driveway, the left side of the SUV resting on the grass.

“I like it when you’re cheeky.”

Jack exited the Range Rover and waited for me as clouds moved over, blocking out the moon for a moment before it peeked out again. His coat dangled lifelessly, the air still and damp.

“Around the side,” I whispered and set off. Through the gate which squeaked loudly, and then into my mother’s little yard. I could hear the beast already. Muttering to itself. It squeaked in surprise when Jack and I walked up to it and caught it licking the old tuna off the bottom of the trap.

“Oh! Good man. Free me, good man.”

“What in the name of my aunt Fannie’s girdle,” Jack mumbled, dropping to a knee in the wet mulch. He fished a small torch out of one of his huge pockets and shined it on our captive.

“Just for a heads up,” I dropped down into a crouch beside Jack. “This creature is known as a squonk. They’re indigenous to the woodlands of Pennsylvania but this handsome fellow seems to have hitched a ride from the states to Wales.”

“Handsome?” Jack looked quite skeptical.

“Yes handsome. If you upset a squonk they dissolve into a puddle of tears, which is why we’re going to speak in happy dog tones and tell him how handsome and smart he is.”

“Oh-kay.” Jack sighed then stood up with his torch still shining on the cage. “And what are we going do to with this squonk now that we have him?”

“Grubbies? Good man have grubbies?” The rat asked, making grabbing motions with his paws.

“I do.” I then pulled out a package of snack cakes. “Let me unwrap it.”

“Grubbies! Oh! Good man. Loves grubbies!”

I got the wrapper off and shoved the crème-filled vanilla cake through a hole in the trap. The mythical beast grabbed it and shoved it into its snout, making yummy noises as it chewed.

“I feel the need to ask yet again what you plan to do with old Grubby here.” Jack waved a hand at the creature.

“Take him to the Hub and let him live there was my first plan.” I unwrapped another cake and then two more. Jack gaped at me. I crammed them all into the cage then stood up, wiping sticky cake from my fingers onto a handkerchief. “He won’t make as much mess as a pterodactyl.”

Jack lifted his chin in a move that I knew meant he was thinking. With a long exhale, his brilliant gaze met mine.

“You have a point. Guess we can’t take him somewhere and just release him. The first time I find squonk shit on my desk I’m calling you in for clean-up duty.”

“I accept that.”

The lights by the back door flared to life. Jack stepped beside me quickly, using his voluminous coat to help hide Grubby who was contently humming and eating.

My mother stepped out, wrapped in a thick robe and plush slippers, her hair combed.

“Just us Mum,” I called softly, hoping not to wake the neighbors. “Come to gather the fox.”

“Is this your boss?” Mum asked stiffly.

I nodded. Jack strutted right up her, sassy as hell, and offered her his big hand.

“Cap’n Jack Harkness, and I know who you are. Your son has your eyes and your daughter has your chin.”

She studied his hand for a full minute. Then, shakily, she slid her fingers into his palm. Knowing Jack as I do, I thought he might kiss her fingers, but he didn’t. He just put his free hand over hers. My heart was thundering in my chest. I desperately wanted to join them, show that Jack and I were a united couple, but Grubby was slobbering and snuffling behind me. I did not want Mum to get a good look at the beast.

“Thank you for raising such a strong, intelligent, passionate son. He’s quite a man.”

“Do you love him?” Mum asked. What an odd experience this all was. Mum and Jack talking about our relationship at ten past midnight, in her backyard, with a fabled creature humming and eating Jack’s Twinkies. It was surreal.

“More than anything or anyone on this planet,” Jack assured her. Mum’s lips flattened then she looked my way.

“The vicar says we should welcome those who choose this lifestyle into our hearts because God created us all as he wished us to be.”

“It’s not a choice, Mum,” I said, shocked that my voice sounded so gruff. “Did you choose to be straight?”

Her eyes flared then she gently removed her fingers from Jack’s warm grip.

“I’m not sure about all this. I dreamed of my son giving me children and a daughter-in-law.” She waved a hand at Jack and then at me. “But I’m willing to make tea and talk about it. I’ve no wish to lose you, Ianto.”

Right. Swallowing was now impossible. “I’d like that Mum, but we have to take care of the fox.”

“We’ll take you out to brunch on Sunday and we’ll start talking then. How does that sound?” Jack asked, and Mum’s firm jaw softened a little.

“I’d rather like that. Sunday at noon then?”

She looked at me.

“Sunday at noon works for us,” I replied around the ball of emotion wedged in my throat.

“Good. Let me grab your box of trinkets before you head off,” Mum said then hurried inside.

We gathered up the “fox” and my box of trinkets then left, making sure Mum had locked her door. Grubby’s rank smell was hard to ignore inside the SUV. I rifled through the box, digging around among the cuff links, tie pins, and four old stopwatches. There was a thick bracelet of gold, clearly masculine, the engraving on the back worn off.

“You’re quiet,” Jack said over the soft snores of Grubby in the back seat.

“Just thinking about you and my mother.” I closed the lid on the inlaid wooden box. “You charmed her.”

He shrugged. “Not really. She was eager to talk. She loves you.”

“Yes, I know. She’s just so distant at times. And she overlooked so much…”

“Well, yes, she did, and there’s no excusing that, but maybe she’s trying twice as hard to accept you as a bisexual man because of the guilt she carries from overlooking so much?”

“Mm, perhaps.” We rode along for a bit. “I doubt she fully grasps the concept of bisexuality.”

“Wait until we try to explain omnisexuality to her,” he chuckled and wheeled us into the underground parking area for the wharf.

“Might be best to let her work on my sexuality for a bit,” I suggested, getting out and then easing the trap with a sleeping squonk in it out of the back. “Tossing you at her will fry her circuits.”

Jack laughed aloud at that, his barking laugh bouncing off the thick concrete floors.

Once inside our base, I carried Grubby down to archives and into the tank room. Jack followed behind at a leisurely pace. I shoved my box of trinkets into one of the deep drawers in my old desk then placed the trap on the floor.

The sleepy rat looked at me curiously when I opened the door of the trap.

“Come on out. This is your new home.”

He lingered a bit inside the trap, clearly uneasy in his new surroundings. His nose twitched steadily. After a moment or two he stepped out of the trap, his tail wrapped round his lean furry body as if it would protect him.

“You’re free to roam the archives,” I said then glanced back at Jack sauntering into the tank room slash refuge slash office. “I’ll bring you food and water. I’m not sure where you do your business…”

Grubby tipped his head.

“If he shits on my desk I’m calling you,” Jack stated from behind. “Just a reminder.”

“Do you think I should get him a litter box?” I asked my lover. Jack grunted noncommittally. “Right, well, I’ll tend to that in the morning. For now, find a place to sleep and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

The creature tried to smile up at me. It was more than a little disconcerting to see all those sharp teeth pulled into a grisly smile. But, he was trying, so I reached out and patted his head. Once. Then regretted it because now my hand would probably reek of squonk.

I lowered the lights and padded along in Jack’s wake, mulling over how things had played out. We ended up in Jack’s office. He looked tired. I felt tired. So we plopped down – me in that hideous white snakeskin chair that always reminded me of bloody John Hart – and Jack behind his desk.

“Drink?” Jack asked. I blinked, caught by surprise by the query. Jack didn’t drink much.

“Oh, yes, that sounds good.”

The brandy was pulled out of the large drawer on his desk. He poured us both two fingers and handed my glass over the desk.

We sipped in silence, the dripping water of the tower working to unravel the lingering fingers of tension inside me.

“This is quite nice.”

“Ianto, if you had to do it all over again, would you have agreed to that first date?” He was stretched out in his chair, large boots on his desk, tumbler resting on his flat stomach, curious gaze on me.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve not exactly made your life easier, have I?”

“I think you’ve improved my life greatly. You’ve filled my heart with love of a kind that I never thought to experience.” I took a small sip, enjoying the soft burn of the brandy sliding down my throat. “You’re also a damn fine shag.”

“And as a boss?” He was sort of glowing with pride. Like the man needed more ego?

“Meh,” I teasingly said into my tumbler. Jack was about to say something snarky, I could tell by the way his eyebrows had flown up his brow, when a scream to wake the dead echoed through the Hub.

We both shot to our feet, tossed back the rest of our brandy, and raced out of the office to find Owen standing on the couch, lobbing old slices of pizza at Grubby.

“Fucking hell! Someone call the bloody exterminator! Look at the size of that bastard!” Owen shrieked.

“Oh, sorry about that. We should have introduced you to your new roommate. Grubby, this is Owen. Owen, Grubby. Since you’re both going to be sleeping here you should know each other,” Jack said.

“Grubby no bastard,” the rat said and then took another bite of old pizza.

“Try to be nice to him. He melts if you call him nasty names,” I shouted to the bald man hiding behind a pizza box. The look on Owen’s face was outstanding.

“I’m going home. Fuck this place and fuck that little…” Grubby began to snuffle. “That little happy fellow.”

Owen got the unsettling Grubby smile and then stormed off – taking a wide arc around the squonk feasting on pineapple pizza.

“Well, that was one way to get his ass out of here. Now, how about another brandy followed by a game of naked hide-and-seek? I won’t cheat this time.” Jack nudged me with his elbow.

“Yes, you will. You always cheat.”

 

 

**To Be Concluded…**


	8. Trinkets, Tea, and Tears - Chapter Eight - Brunch and Cookies

**Trinkets, Tea, and Tears**

**Chapter Eight**

**Ianto Solo**

**Brunch and Cookies**

 

Sunday morning was an interesting one. I was more than a little nervous and was flip-flopping on if I should invite Rhiannon to come to brunch or not. On the one hand it would be nice to have everyone all together talking. But, on the other hand, putting Mum and Rhiannon in the same place meant they’d be talking. And bickering.

“Why don’t you just call your sister and tell her to behave?” Jack asked, stepping up behind me as I shaved and stewed.

“She won’t listen. She never does. She just gets irked and goes off.” I rinsed my razor and gave the man behind me a look. Freshly showered, skin pink from the hot water, hair plastered to his head, Jack looked incredible. If the man pressed that hot, damp body up to mine we’d be late for brunch.

“Then stop fretting over it.” He nestled in close and my body reacted as it always did to him. “I could take your mind off your sister for a bit.” His hands slid around my waist, dipping dangerously into my pajama bottoms. Oh, the fire that leaped into his gaze when his fingers brushed my cock.

“No. We’ll be late.”

“I can go fast.”

“I’d not brag about that if I were you.” I wiggled free from his curious hands and stood beside him, forcing my gaze to remain on the steamy mirror. Jack pouted prettily. Yes, I know. A man isn’t pretty, but Jack is. In my eyes he’s the prettiest man alive. Horniest too.

“Just trying to be a good boyfriend and reduce your stress.” He picked up a tube of hair gel and squeezed some into his palm.

“Always the thoughtful one,” I snickered as he worked the gel into his hair. He gave me a wink then set into doing his hair which, I had learned, required concentration and silence. One didn’t just have that playful scamp look, one had to work at that playful scamp look.

I finished shaving and jumped into the shower, leaving Jack to his hair care. We dressed and grabbed a fast cup of coffee, then drove to the Hub, to meet up with the others.

Jack went to the war room and I went in search of Grubby. I found him wedged behind a shelf in the archives, poking about in one of the totes. After I scolded him and removed the Droon audio paddle from his curious little hands, I asked him to follow me into the war room, and he did, but grew anxious when he saw Tosh, Gwen, and Owen at the table.

The ladies had heard of our new squatter but had yet to see him.

“Come along now, it’s quite alright.” I didn’t want to touch him as his musky smell would cling to my suit. He hid just outside the door muttering to himself. Finally I had to round up some food to lure him into the conference room. I tossed one half of an old ham and cheese sandwich to the table. Grubby leaped up, smiled at the ladies, and then sat down to feast on his meal.

Tosh and Gwen both rolled back in their seats, noses wrinkled, eyes wide. Owen refused to sit down at all and lingered in the corner behind Jack.

“This,” Jack opened with, “is Grubby. He’s a squonk, and somehow snuck over to Wales with a family from the states. Since he’s a magical creature Ianto thought it best to offer him refuge here in the Hub. I agreed. And so, he’s now living here.”

“My God but he’s hideous,” Gwen coughed behind her hand. Grubby really did need a bath but I wasn’t sure if he’d melt in the water or not. Maybe I could dip one of his ratty toes into a bath and see what happened?

“And he reeks,” Toshiko added and pinched her nostrils shut.

Grubby began to sniffle a bit.

“He’s quite tenderhearted,” I quickly jumped in before someone said something else mean and the poor beastie started crying. I’d seen that mess and did not want to have to scrape the residual melted rat fat from the table. I did have brunch to attend soon. “If you say mean things to him, he’ll cry and melt into a great greasy puddle of tears and rat innards.”

The women looked even more aghast.

“What Ianto means is that we all have to talk to Grubby like he’s a baby,” Jack chimed in with a smirk. “Owen, why don’t you say something to Grubby to make him feel better?”

The medic threw Jack a bitter look. “Right, well…he’s just the most putrid thing ever,” Owen said in a high-pitched sing-song voice. Grubby clapped and smiled that creepy smile. “If I find him near my medical lab or the autopsy room I’ll use him for experiments,” he tacked on still speaking to the creature in that sweet voice.

“Grubby like good mans!”

“Is there any chance of us voting on his staying here?” Tosh asked while wheeling further away from the table.

“No, not really. We can’t just let a mythical creature roam around Wales,” Jack replied.

“But he’s not an alien. We only deal with aliens,” Gwen cut in. Tosh nodded vigorously.

“Who are we to say that he’s not an alien?” Jack enquired. “His kind could have landed here centuries ago and were stranded. I personally know that several dozen of the so called _mythical beasts_ are in fact alien species.”

I thought back to our time in Scotland and my chance to not only meet but touch and feed an alien life form in the shape of a sea monster.

“Oh. Well, okay.” Gwen gave Tosh a look that said, ‘I tried my best’ then rolled further from the squonk eating a dried-out half of a sandwich. “Does he bite?”

“Not to my knowledge. He does like food though, so I’d suggest not leaving anything you don’t wish to share with him lying about.” I looked around and got nods from everyone there.

“Alright then, introductions are over. Tosh, I want the computers back online today. Nope, don’t care how long the scan has left to run. Cut it short and get us back up. Gwen and Owen, I need you two do some research on that bump in the rift we had last night around three. Go check the site and report back. Ianto and I have a date for brunch.”

He stood up and gave us all that look. The others went to work. I gathered his coat from the rack in his office and helped him into it.

“Last chance to back out,” Jack said while I flattened out his collar and ran my hands over the epaulets on his coat.

“Nope. We’re going to brunch. Want to stop by Rhiannon’s and see if they’re free?”

Jack nodded then stole a kiss. “You’re so damn sexy when you’re being assertive.”

That made me blush a little.

 

*****

We all settled around a small table at one of my favorite tea rooms in Cardiff. Rhiannon and Mum sat across from each other, Jack and I flanking the two warring parties. The kids had been sick, so Johnny got a pass. The lucky bastard.

Jack, being Jack, bulldozed through the tension cloaking the table and chatted up my mother as if they were on a date. Rhiannon kept throwing glances my way.

“So, Ianto tells me that you make the best currant cookies that he’s ever had,” Jack said as our tea arrived. They had amazingly good tea here and the brunch menu was top notch. I liked the crisp black and white interior and the staff was solid and efficient. Jack and I stopped here rather frequently as they also had some American meals on the menu. Today were we all having eggs Benedict.

“I’ve not made them since he was a little boy. I thought you’d forgotten about them to be honest, Ianto,” Mum said, stirring one cube of sugar into her tea.

“Nope, I’ve not forgotten.” There were many things about my childhood that lingered – some brilliant and bright when I closed my eyes to sleep that I wished I could forget – but not her currant cookies.

“I’ll be honest and say that I’ve never had currant cookies,” Jack said, smiling at the server as he placed our plates in front of us. Everything looked wonderful. Rich hollandaise smothering muffins covered with eggs, spinach and salmon. My stomach rumbled rudely.

“Oh? Don’t they have them where you’re from?” Mum asked. Rhiannon had yet to say a word. She shook out her cloth napkin as Mum had done, and laid it over the lap of her skirt. My sister had not been happy to be rousted from her house and told to dress nicely to meet Mum for brunch.

“Not so much,” Jack said, and then we tucked in.

The food was delicious and we three made chit-chat about cookies, the weather, and Mum’s favorite show on the telly. Rhiannon chewed violently and washed her food down with some chilled tea. When she lowered her cup, and leveled her gaze on Mum, I braced myself for the blast.

“Really? We’re going to sit here and talk about bloody cookies?”

“Rhiannon!” Mum gasped, lifting her napkin to her mouth.

My sister glanced at the other patrons. “They didn’t hear. And I won’t yell about it, but this is asinine. Look at us, sitting here talking about flowers when you should be asking your son about his new relationship and trying to learn about how to treat Jack and he properly.”

“I’m well aware of what your brother is doing, Rhiannon,” Mum snipped and laid her fork down beside her empty plate. “I’m also aware that this is not the place to discuss this. Nor is it the time.”

“Oh right, good. Let’s just sweep his bisexuality under the rug. Pretend that everything is fine and that we’re all bloody keen on getting a cookie recipe.”

I turned to my sister. Jack, amazingly, was keeping his thoughts to himself. He sat there, sipping his tea, and listening to the family dynamic playing out.

“Rhiannon, we don’t need to beat her over the head with Jack and me. Just being able to go to brunch with him and being out about it is enough for me,” I whispered, the blush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

“But she should be making amends for saying what she did, Ianto. I mean, telling you to go when she should have been happy to hear you’d found someone. This is what always happens. You always let others put their comfort before your wellbeing. Tell her she hurt you by fobbing you off to follow some stupid religious shite.”

“I once dated a man who had trouble with his family,” Jack slid into the escalating row smoothly. “They hated the fact that he was seeing me. I wasn’t from his neighborhood you see.”

Mum nodded, her attention now fully on Jack.

“Grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, did you?” Mum asked, and Jack nodded.

“Something like that. Anyway, this fellow and his family bickered and fought about us. They railed at each other for weeks and then months, neither willing to give an ounce, until finally the stress was too much, and he and I broke up.”

“Sorry for that,” Rhiannon sadly said.

“It was a long time ago,” Jack said with a small smile. “The important thing to take out of that story is that if you truly want Ianto to be happy… and I know you do,” he looked at Mum and then Rhiannon. They both nodded. “Then you have to be willing to accept the fact that we all aren’t coming into this from the same place. I’m thrilled to be able to talk cookies with your mother one day and then sit down and discuss the state of homophobia in this country with you the following day, Rhiannon. There’s no right way to be a loving family member. Some people are just happiest quietly accepting while others grab their rainbow flag and wave it proudly.”

By God the man certainly knew how to talk to people. I could not have loved him more.

“I’m really quite fine with having tea and talking about cookies too,” I quickly added. “It’s something rather large that Mum is here with Jack and me, willingly having brunch. That all four of us can be here at all is enough for me. I’m happy.”

“Right, okay, I understand,” Rhiannon sighed, her gaze flickering from me to Mum then to Jack.

“So, anyone want dessert?” Jack asked, sitting up and resting his elbows to the table. “When Ianto and I were here last they had an _incredible_ Monmouth pudding.”

Mum looked at me, her gaze warm. I reached out and took her hand. And then we had some truly amazing pudding while we discussed the weather and cookie recipes.

 

The End

 

**Next up we’re going to have another “Day in the Life” one-shot. After that will I’ll be taking another hiatus to work on contracted novels. As soon as I get a few done, I’ll be back with more for Jack and Ianto.**

**See you soon!**

**Yours in fiction—**

**Feral**

 

 


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